The Colours of the Setting Sun
by Kaliko Rosa
Summary: In the ashes of battle, militaristic cadet Yuy Heero discovers the joy of life from within the soul of a little girl and her young canine friend. But will he unknowingly sacrifice their lives in his mission? (a short story, please read if you have time :)
1. I

** ¤° § The Colours of the Setting Sun § °¤**

_A fanfiction by Kaliko Rosa_   
_Based on the animated series "Gundam Wing"_

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Brilliance.

The light shone with a magnificent brilliance, radiant and commanding as it blinded every inch of surrounding space. His eyes nearly ached with its bright pulsations, shining throughout his flesh at his very will; such power being emblazoned within the mere abilities of his fingertips. A push – that was all the effort he had to exert to attain such power, nothing more than the mere press of a rounded button, calling to him as his duties did on a daily basis. Yes, it was the same day after day, this glinting supremacy; such awe to behold at such ease to portray. He was nothing more than another mere soldier trained to thrive in confinement to these meager metallic encasements, yet he was still the one lucky soldier, of the anxious millions, fortunate enough to be encased within the purest of gundanium alloy. Whether this gundanium made any difference, or more so an enhancement, to his abilities was something that even he was not sure of. Whatever the answer may be, Heero Yuy knew that there was a sure and guaranteed power amongst sitting within such a reliable, man-made beast of war. Even more rewarding than that was the knowledge that Heero knew he was one of the only ones who could pilot such an awesome contraption; one of the only rare men given such awe-inspiring aptitude to do what is not expected of many at such a tender age.

Watching the light of the radiant explosion slowly die in its exuberance, he observed as his skin and the cold machinery around him absorbed the colours of a soft yellow. Such a tone, painted on him and the machine of destruction he sat within, felt nowhere short of odd. It was something that happened regularly, as the aftermath of destroyed enemy structures and shattered buildings come into view; the blinding glow of his Gundam machine's brilliant laser beam would fade and touch everything in its path. But now, as his chestnut eyes dazed upon the illuminating shade, his fingers fell upon the young flower lying wedged between his piloting controls. In the discipline of his duties and the fulfillment of yet another mission, Heero had almost forgotten it was even there.

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**.: Kaliko Rosa Creations .:. http://www.kaliko.cjb.net :. **


	2. II

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_Moments Earlier..._

_"Would you like a flower? What's your name?" _

She had spoken it so plainly, so much out of the blue he had been actually caught off guard. Heero normally was not confronted on his rare occurrences of "spare time", but in his abstract meditation, she and that young little canine had appeared as quietly like a mere pollen in the air; small, outstretched hand offering the crippled gift and words asking more questions before they could be answered.

He had taken it, the withered and dying dandelion, which at the time was a fiery and lively shade of yellow, reminding him of the vibrant colours of the setting sun. Normally, he would be disgusted at such an offering, the useless gift of a common weed, practically not even worthy to be discerned as a flower in the first place. But his distaste was not made obvious at the time, or possibly it was just non-existent. Without hesitance, Heero's rough and adolescent hands had taken the flower, still weak and looping over his fingers, from the strange little girl wandering alone in the outskirts of the colony for reasons he did not know.

"Yuy Heero," he had answered properly, almost callously. It was his way of speech, one that went with an ere of high rank and superiority. Even the strength within his voice could easily assert that he went without weakness.

But it seemed at that moment; Heero Yuy learned that young dogs and young girls do not qualify as subjects to figures of authority or respect. She had simply sat by him without his regarded permission, large church dress fluffing outwards and eager blue eyes nearly bouncing under the shade of her oversized straw hat – a strange combination of old fashioned clichés amidst the backdrop of a modern age. The Golden Retriever pup had lain caressed caringly within her small arms, uncomplaining to the tight embrace.

"Heero as in a 'hero'?" She had asked amused, leaning towards him with a gleaming smile. Her teeth were not quite perfect to such an already nearly perfected face, just contributing the confirmation of her unquestionable youth.

He had not replied, thinking he did not have a reply to such an uncommon inquiry. Heero did not want to think up a reply either, knowing that in a few hours he would have a mission here, one that needed plenty of pre-planning and analyzing. It was one of the things he would do when he found time to spare: think. Heero was trained to think, to plan and to strategize. This girl did none of these things. At such an infantile age, she danced on the whim of happenings, neither planning nor anticipating –just living. It was a careless way of life Heero Yuy could not familiarize with. 

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**.: Kaliko Rosa Creations .:. http://www.kaliko.cjb.net :.**


	3. III

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Hours later, its dozens of tiny petals were now decaying, an ugly tint of a yellowish-brown, coiled over towards the center. It lay frail and defeated within the warmth of his palms, palms still rigged with the heat of the battle. Staring at this dandelion now, inflicting his thoughts with strange yet intriguing memories, he knew that it went well with his surroundings. Here it lay, having once been painted with the vivacious colours of life, withering as time passed. Things that are once beautiful don't necessarily stay that way, once plucked from a natural and uncorrupted lifestyle. It was much the same with his surroundings, this dreary world of black. Even within his massive war machine, within this incredible Gundam, Heero could still see the murky ashes of the outside, the gray tone of the once vivacious sky. This place too had formerly been beautiful, awe-inspiring sky scrapers with fluent and marveling technology, but once such a community fell into the wrong hands, then it itself began to wither. It was a place like this Heero had previously called home, if you would consider a training camp a home, and it was amazing how things have coiled over dryly much like the petals of this discarded dandelion. Who were once allies were now enemies, what was once familiar was now strange. It was the process of life. It _is_ the process of life. Everything glows with the colours of newness and excitement as it is young and innocent, but with time, those colours fade. With time, they die out slowly and almost melancholic with beauty, like the inspiration of a sunset.

'Strange,' he thought quietly, tucking it away within a pocket. 'All this from a meager flower.'

The darkness was cold out there. Heero knew he did not have time now to ponder things, or to recall things, or to care for things. Instead, in an almost mechanical instinct, he unlatched his belt and allowed it to snap back within its compartment, becoming one again with the machine it served. Heero could only watch, as he always did, as the giant entrance argued with the sound of steel gears bringing it up and allowing the chilling wind to seep the little warmth away from his body. The night faced him, glowing with stars and the reflection of the silent earth up above, where he knew even more battles waged. This had been just one of many.

The rope burnt his cold hands as he slid down from the elevated cockpit of his impressive machine, reimbursing some of that lost warmth to a painful extent. It loomed above him now, his Gundam dubbed 'Wing Zero', looking immense and almost alive as it knelt with door ajar near its torso, a truly strange and colourful apparatus. Heero did not know why they had designed it with such odd and dashing colours, as if splashed on from buckets of primary paints, out of uniform with the rigid bleakness of any other mobile suit he knew of. He figured, like the warning of the Poison Arrow frog, Wing Zero's colours stated that it was not a thing to be easily reckoned with. It was a plausible explanation, but in the time's dreariness even Wing Zero had taken on a monotone glow. It was these moments of war where the world was left in the dull black and white shades of lifelessness.

Heero turned away and began to walk, eyes scouting for any potential survivors that may put up another lasting fight. It didn't seem likely for him to spot anything though, for it seemed Heero's eyes were more leant to the ground, where he watched carefully for any large fragments of rubble he may stumble upon. There was plenty of debris everywhere, parts of who-knows-what: homes, cars, buildings, mobile suits… the list went on. He did not desire to think of what or who these discarded items were – he only desired not to fall over them as he passed.

Then his feet stopped, unmoving. Heero lifted his head to the air as if scenting something strong. But it was not so much a foreign smell, but_ sound_. It was a faded and indistinct sound, but it was growing stronger.

With short and rustled brown hair swaying with the lost night, he quietly surveyed the area. It was empty, ruined and uninviting. Lost within the atmosphere of post-war destruction, the wailing echo of sirens could be heard. Foolish OZ soldiers; they should have known to evacuate sooner; they should have anticipated what would come to be. But Heero knew inside that it was likely that there were no OZ soldiers here. Most likely, it had been another one of their staged traps, and probably the only victims of his regulated attack was the innocent, with the corruption of the misleading government escaping his rage once more. It had happened before; it was an ugly reality Heero was adequately used to. As a teen, he made mistakes. As a soldier, he failed or succeeded. Somewhere along the line, two such ideas had come together so well that he no longer wished to observe the difference.

Heero silenced his needless thoughts – the sound was strong now, invoking his mind even more.

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**.: Kaliko Rosa Creations .:. http://www.kaliko.cjb.net :.**


	4. IV

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_Moments Earlier..._

"Would you like to pet him?" She had asked curiously, almost worried at his inattentiveness towards her. Little girls did not pick up on cloaked messages as easily as an older audience. She extended the young Retriever, fidgeting now at the transferal to the indignant Heero's arms.

"He doesn't have a name."

Heero received the struggling canine, feeling its young and soft body fall within his grasp. It was… _alien._ Heero could not familiarize with the feel of its helpless body, nearly crowding towards him for warmth. He could not relate to those deep, puppy eyes, nor could he sense any expertise with the puppy's kind lick of a tongue. He merely did not know how to react.

"You've never held a doggy before?" The girl seemed to know this. Her hands were soft and gentle as she retook the dog and demonstrated how it was to be properly cradled. Heero could only watch with a silent observance, a kind of mute shame. He was being taught something by an eight-year-old, one he didn't even know to top that. It was embarrassing almost to be taught such a pointless skill, but nevertheless, she was good at what she did. She was _good _at being gentle and temperate. As she handed the frail creature back to his hold, he couldn't help but notice that, yet so young, this girl had equally developed a talent Heero Yuy had never known in his disciplined fifteen years of life. Her look of innocence, face painted with an earnest smile and a strange compassion, was something he could only admire. It disturbed him to a point, and to another point, it intrigued every notion in his body, heart and mind.

"Why doesn't he have a name?" Heero had rewarded her longing for him to speak, finding the words surprising, not even expecting them to come as they did.

She cocked her head to the left, pretty swirls of brownish blonde bangs fluttering by her pink cheeks. She wore a smile on her, patting the dog that lay awkwardly in his arms, collar crowned by a wreath of carefully handpicked dandelions.

"I can't think of a name," she laughed almost, as if embarrassed by her own simplicity. "My Mommy just got him for me yesterday. Can't think of a name though… Can you?"

Heero jerked uncomfortably at the sound of the question, almost feeling pressured to answer, as he stood alone in the day's dusk with this young child. He did not spend his time thinking of what to name animals, and more so, if Heero ever encountered one, he probably wouldn't even name an animal. What's the use in giving a name, if the one who is named doesn't even know it? It seemed pointless – not worth the time. Heero didn't do things that weren't worth his time, or weren't beneficial. What was the use?

The dog fidgeted once more, a small yelping escaping his throat.

"He's slipping, silly," the girl had stated with a tone of question in her voice, still amused that a boy looking so proud could have such little know-how on the proper handling of a dog. Every boy she knew had a dog. But this one was very different.

Heero could only watch slightly relieved as the young girl took the canine away from him once more and back into her own strangely perfect method of carrying. He felt oddly disappointed and to a sense, even stupid. If the skill this girl possessed was so simple and useless, then why couldn't he accomplish what she could? If he was so righteous, why couldn't he just hold a "puppy" the way everyone else did? It was no difficult task. Then again, why did he want to do so? Wasn't it a waste of time? Wasn't it?

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**.: Kaliko Rosa Creations .:. http://www.kaliko.cjb.net :.**


	5. V

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It was a bark. It was louder now; enough that it woke Heero again from his thoughts. The sirens were loud too. He would have to leave very soon, for Wing Zero could be easily spotted from a distance, and although it did have a rather complex and impressive self-defense system, without Heero, it was vulnerable to anyone cunning enough to surpass the machine's animated hopes for survival.

Instantly, his feet picked up pace, running towards where the sound was strong. His eyes were almost blinded in this dust, faltering over large, abstract things, things he did not know what were nor cared. He only thought of that faint sound, a faint barking, a faint… cry for help? Heero did not know how to identify it but to see it for himself, which is exactly what he planned to do.

Fallen structures and turned over vehicles lined the roads. The OZ base barely stood where it once had been, lying now smoldered and unidentifiable. The colony was an ugly gray, or at least this part of it. Heero was not stupid. Wing Zero's beam had been very specific, targeting only the area in which he ran. Although both world and colonies were against him so much to even loath him and his missions, Heero knew better than to target the supposedly innocent public. He was trained not to do so, not to involve those who didn't have anything to do with the fall of the Alliance. It was all a part of the conscious code of conduct within every noble soldier in a possibly weak attempt to bring some sort of truth to the belief in a "just war". Moreover, Heero did not have a care to hurt the innocent. That's not to say that he constantly felt anxious over their well being, he just knew that wasting his time on those things was beneficial to no one.

Suddenly, Heero's thoughts ceased, shut up like a candle extinguished in the wind. No words came to play, no emotions registered. Instead, frozen, motionless, his vision only lay before him, looking onwards into the dusty vicinity that surrounding him like somber graves.

He swallowed, deeply, until it nearly choked him. Something was writhing within his body, a feeling of ugly remorse that doubled each passing second. He couldn't come to believe what he saw, he didn't want to believe nor even think it. Although having seen such images plenty of times over, it didn't seem real this time around. He felt weakened, so suddenly weakened and fragile. It was too unexpected. Many things were unexpected. 

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**.: Kaliko Rosa Creations .:. http://www.kaliko.cjb.net :.**


	6. VI

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_ Moments Earlier..._

"I think I'll name him Hero," she patted the young dog gently, wisps of golden-basked fur escaping onto her fingers although she didn't seem to mind.

Heero's throat caught itself quickly, feeling her words were quite deeply unforeseen. Try as the indifferent soldier might to conceal any impressions of flattery or quieted appreciation, he was inwardly amazed that he had been so momentarily intrigued. In his thoughts, analytical as they were, the adolescent should not have paid any mind, any second concern, to what should have been a civilian irritancy robbing him of his pre-attack strategic planning time. It was a complicated mental process that often ran through his mind, depictions of the task he would soon carry out that could take a few minutes to run through securely, ensuring success and obliterating any slim opportunity for failure. He operated much like the most cunning of chess players, visualizing outcome and process before the pieces were even laid on the board. However, just as easily as he could imagine, Heero Yuy, at anytime that he wished, could dismiss the young pester with the turn of a cold shoulder, or the growl of a few words, but as that seemed so evidently sensible, yet somehow, those deep brown eyes lay focused on what he could only deem as unimportant yet to his unresisting interest: to stare curiously at the two most unique and appealing characters he had ever come across.

"Why would you name him that?" the words escaped Cadet Yuy with much effort to them, as if he were divided as to whether it was a mistake or not to continue the seemingly pointless conversation. There was still plenty of time until he would have to board on to his fascinating machine of massive destruction which lay skillfully concealed in the most dense packing of forest a couple of yards away, but yet he didn't know how much risk it was associating with the girl. She may have been young and freely careless, yet his very name was in her mind and face within her eyes. Just as easily, she could have been nothing more but a flesh data recorder sent out to observe him from OZ-enforcement parents, just as much of a threat as the cold press of a pistol to his temple. It was so graven to think of it that way, and for once, Heero questioned why he did. That was the system in which the boy functioned. He purposely made himself familiar with worst-case scenarios and his untrusting solitary motifs, yet as he watched this girl with natural ringlets in perfect circles, large orbs of eyes that could win the envy of sapphire, dainty hands and feet in a pastel pink fluff of clothing coated slightly with a gold tinge from her tiny and harmless friend, his ideal of her being an enemy of his was almost laughable. He didn't know nor did he care whether her parents or whomever she knew were friend or foe, he understood that a child's innocence was an enemy to no one.

"I think it's a pretty name," she replied in her light voice, preoccupied slightly in tying yet another dandelion around the stuffed collar of the newly-named pup, small fingers weaving with surprising accuracy. "He's gonna be big when he grows up you know, Retrievers are always big, and they're always heroes. That's how he's gonna be someday, I just know it, he'll be my hero when we're grown ups. One day he'll be big and strong and handsome and he'll be known as a hero, he will, just like you!"

She had said it simply, with stumbling grammar and a child-like leaning to repetition, but yet… there was still something _strange_ to it, something definitely different in the impression that it had embodied within him. It drove distinctly and almost insanely on Heero's very being, as if defying all that he could relate to from his associations with others, all but one. Immediately, like those rare and unmentioned times before, Heero's young and firmed heart began to twist and his very rigid stream or priority and principles began to curve slightly, allowing accommodation to his sudden liking to her words. He was realizing it slowly firsthand that he wasn't as clear-cut about himself than he thought he would be. Although all common sense and pure logic would go to assume that the cadet would not, or should have not, spent much more than a second to attend to this stranger, still yet that had not been the case, and somewhere along that thin line, he had even come to enjoy her company to a limit he didn't know. It was something that bore discomfort in his militaristic persona, yet all the same, it was also something that bore a satisfying content to his frequently denied and lonely soul.

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**.: Kaliko Rosa Creations .:. http://www.kaliko.cjb.net :.**


	7. VII

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The smell of fire was strong and distasteful, burning away and smoldering whatever left of the area there was that had survived. He stood then on the remains of Gil Park, a suburban plot somehow dug within the commercial and hectic area of downtown Colony B-179 not far from the OZ Commercial Base, a place that had in just moments before, looked nothing like what he saw now. Earlier on, the artificial world had been doused in colour, vehicles plummeting down roadways and sidewalks clustered with busied strangers, each unfortunate soul unknowingly approaching seconds closer to the abrupt diminishing of their lives. Yet still, going unwarned, they had acted as normal civilians: couples out for a romantic stroll, businessmen trailing a spare taxi cab, parents wheeling their baby's stroller, children waiting impatiently for their turn on the swings. These were things that the armed forces cadet did not think of and had not thought of, did not dwell on, and did not care of. These were casualties like many he had been made aware of before, the collateral damage used militaristically although as unintentionally as possible. With the immense impact of the fission reaction created by his powerful mobile suit's laser, it was also inevitable that even innocent lives must be spared for the name of justice to be served. It was the ugly truth that Heero, having felt there was no other option, had stared in the face of every time he had pulled that trigger or pressed that button. But now, as the heat of licking flames engulfed this currently cold and dreary environment, with leveled buildings and a coating of depressive gray ash to cloak the dismembered parts of what remained, this commonly stoic and distanced rebellious figure, serving what he had usually believed to be the just cause, could not stare at it any longer in the face. Although his drive to that sound moved him forward, a new and overpowering compassion drove to his reluctance. For once, he allowed that disturbed and disgusted feeling to sink in, and with it, the fear and dread of knowing what he didn't want to know.

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**Author's Notes:**

Hello everyone! Welcome to my very first anime short story ^__^ I felt like dividing it into chapters to make it more interesting, but it isn't really as long as an official fanfiction at all. I'm really not very good at short stories, so any comment on this one would be greatly appreciated! Yes, I'm sure you all recognize this scene from Endless Waltz, I merely decided to elaborate on it a bit. The main theme of this somber fanfiction surrounds the aspect of war and the militaristic behavior of men and women whom, at times, may tend to lose touch of their inner compassionate self, and need to sometimes step back and observe how much more carefree life would be if we all invoked that same child-like innocence. By the next update the story should be finished, and I hope dearly that you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Thank you again! ^__^

**.: Kaliko Rosa Creations .:. http://www.kaliko.cjb.net :.**


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